


RABUHO (Love Hotel) - Part Two: Inflatable Mattress, Christmas Lights And Traumatic Brain Injury

by sevenswells



Series: Rabuho [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Comeplay, Love Hotels, M/M, Oil, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 18:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9085357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenswells/pseuds/sevenswells
Summary: Bokuto and Akaashi's adventures at the love hotel didn't go too well last time. Luckily, Christmas is a holiday for lovers, and this time, it's Akaashi's turn to set up their date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Translating this bit from my fic in French took the LONGEST time, which is why I'm only able to post it now, two whole days *after* Christmas. But we're still in December, so it still counts as a Christmas fic, right? Right.
> 
> Sorry about the product placement. It's a well-known cliché that KFC is a popular type of Christmas food in Japan and I wanted to put that in there. And KFC is a (VERY) guilty pleasure of mine (I grew up on a tropical island, don't judge me)
> 
> Oh and another well-known cliché: culturally speaking, Christmas isn't a big family holiday in Japan. Christmas is actually celebrated by couples, while New Year's Eve is the big family holiday.
> 
> This is the last part of this series, it's done, hurray!

When Akaashi opened his door to Bokuto on Christmas Eve, nothing in his expression let show that he was up to something.

On the other hand, inferring anything from his expressions was equivalent to basing your life on your daily horoscope: random, scientifically dubious, and you only really saw in it what you wanted to see. (This said, Bokuto’s horoscope said he’d find love on Christmas or if he was already taken he’d spend it with the person most dear to him and that was what was happening right now, so maybe there was some truth in it, you could never know)(Akaashi usually said that yes you could in fact know and no Bokuto-san no need to read me mine).

However, when Bokuto wanted to greet his parents and Akaashi remained vague as to their whereabouts, he began to formulate the hypothesis of something possibly fishy. He gave Akaashi a suspicious stare.

“What,” Akaashi said.

“No, Akaashi, you didn’t…”

“What,” he said again, and Bokuto thought there was nervousness in his voice.

Out of the blue, a very distinct smell hit his nostrils.

“It smells like,” he sniffed. “It smells…”

He rushed to the kitchen before Akaashi could stop him and started screeching at the top of his lungs.  In a panic, Akaashi ran after him, only to find him dancing for joy in front of two buckets made of red and white cardboard, decorated with a stylized face of a man wearing a goatee and spectacles.

“KFC! KFC! For Christmas! That’s what you were hiding!”

“I wasn’t hiding anything, Bokuto-san.”

“Sure you were, you knew your parents would be out tonight and you ordered KFC so there’d be more for us! Akaashi, I don’t tell you that often, but you’re a genius!”.

“You tell me often enough, Bokuto-san, don’t worry.”

“It’s still hot! How did you manage to get these so quickly? Usually there are huge queues in front of the restaurants…”

“I know some people who know people,” Akaashi shrugged.

There was the confirmation of something Bokuto had always known: Akaashi secretly worked with the mafia. No other explanation possible. But no matter the means used and the crimes committed, they had KFC for Christmas, like when he was little, but on occasions rare and infrequent enough to transform the fried chicken into pure ambrosia from golden memories. The smell alone was enough to lose him in nostalgia, while abundantly salivating.

How had Akaashi known? Maybe he’d understood from all the clues Bokuto had left with the coming holidays, like telling him how he’d love to eat some KFC on Christmas again, how he hadn’t eaten any since he was a kid, and even then, it wasn’t that often, it didn’t taste the same the rest of the year, o how would he love eating some again for Christmas!

He bit into the crispy skin and melt-in-the-mouth meat of a drumstick, and relished the piping hot fat that flooded his mouth. He was right, it was better now than any other time of the year. He gnawed on the drumstick down to the bone, then moved on to another, then another, careful not to smother himself with his fried chicken orgy.

Once they’d eaten their weight in KFC, Akaashi handed him a package wrapped in white, black and golden paper.

“Akaashi,” protested a horrified Bokuto, “it’s not the time for presents yet!”

“It’s merely a small gesture, Bokuto-san. I’d rather we took care of it now. So that, it, er… would be done.”

Bokuto tried to open the wrapping paper cleanly, because he wanted to keep it afterwards (he kept almost everything Akaashi gave him, up to the first band-aid that Akaashi had stuck on him for a small scratch on his hand, from a cat that resembled Kuroo he’d wanted to pet – there was still flakes of dried blood on it) but he only succeeded in making a tear in it, so he lost patience and teared up the rest to reveal a plastic DVD case.

The DVD’s title was “Flesh Gordon and the Hypersonic Dildo”.

Bokuto’s jaw dropped.

“It wasn’t easy to find”, Akaashi explained, eyes downcast on his fiddling fingers. “Although this one is apparently something of a classic amongst connoisseurs. In the end, through my contacts, I managed to find a guy in Nakano who sold a few copies…”

Bokuto knocked down a bucket of chicken bones when he opened his arms wide and closed them around Akaashi to hug him as tight as possible. Akaashi stopped his embarrassed waffling.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto muttered, his mouth squashed against Akaashi’s shoulder, “it doesn’t matter if you’re part of the yakuza, I love you.”

“Bokuto-san, are you crying?”

“No!”

“You’re dampening my shoulder.”

Bokuto let go of him to swipe at his eyes and nose with the back of his hand.

“Akaashi, I’m sorry, I don’t have a present for you.”

Out of thin air, Akaashi conjured up a small packet of what looked like balled up magazine pages, held together by one long, uncut ribbon of scotch tape that went around it in multiple layers. The only neat thing in this chaotic wrapping was the red ribbon flower that had been bought in a shop, but its adhesive didn’t stick too well to the scotch tape and so it hanged limply.

“Oh, so you mean this present isn’t for me?”

This time Bokuto’s jaw dropped so hard he almost tasted carpet.

How did he retrieve it? At which moment? Akaashi was a wizard assassin from the mafia, there was no other explanation. Bokuto tried to get a grip on himself:

“Er, no, it’s not for you.”

“There’s ‘AKAASHI’ written in marker pen on the scotch tape, followed by twenty exclamation marks.”

“I told you, it’s not for you,” Bokuto insisted through the long-fingered hand that Akaashi had applied to his face to stop him from trying to get the present back.

“Too bad, Bokuto-san, I don’t buy that. Let me open it.”

“Akaashiiiiiii,” Bokuto cried out, “you don’t understand, you’ve given me the best present ever, mine sucks ass! I need you to give it back to me, and I’ll find a better one for you I swear!”

“No. It’s not the first time you do this to me, you always decide at the last minute that my present to you is better than yours to me, then you want to find a better one, you let yourself get sucked into a spiral of inferiority complex and gloom and I end up with nothing at all. So I took the liberty to go through your pockets when you arrived, don’t be mad at me.”

“I knew it, you’re a criminal and a pickpocket wizard Akaashi!” squawked Bokuto as he flailed to reach the packet.

All in vain: Akaashi’s block was too efficient, worse than Dateko’s Great Wall.

“It was sticking out of your back pocket, I’m far from being a criminal mastermind,” Akaashi said, unconcerned, while he finished stripping away the wrapping.

Bokuto let himself go limp on the floor, vanquished. Akaashi was remaining silent, eyes intent on the objects in the palm of his hand. How could he be blamed for that? In exchange for a rare and thoughtful gift that was reminiscent of the good times spent together and that Akaashi had gone through a ton of difficulties to obtain, Bokuto gave him some shitty volleyball keychains that you could find for cheap in any stadium shop. He tried to soften the blow as best as he could:

“I did warn you, that it sucked. I had thought, I said to myself, you know, sometimes certain couples get each other matching accessories, well in my little sister’s shoujo mangas anyway, and since volleyball is what brought us together, I thought, one keychain for you and one for me, and… I swear I can get you something better if you leave me enough time!”

Akaashi gently put the keychains down on the kitchen table.

“Bokuto-san, you were right, I was hiding something from you,” he said with a dead serious face. “Please follow me.”

It was like a cold shower. He didn’t like how Akaashi’s words sounded at all. He wouldn’t dump him over some stupid keychains, would he? Unless… unless it was the last straw. Unless Akaashi had had it with the less than adequate gifts when he was making all the efforts.

Bokuto followed him up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Did he want to end it in a more intimate setting? Maybe he didn’t want his parents to walk in on them breaking up if they decided to come home?

“If you must know, I’ve sent my parents on a trip away from home for the holiday,” Akaashi said, as though in reply to Bokuto’s thoughts.

Akaashi was a mind reader pickpocket wizard from the mafia.

“Oh?”

“Yes. To an onsen in Nikkô, all expenses paid. I wanted to ensure that we’d have at least one entire evening to ourselves.”

Bokuto didn’t know what else to say except:

“Oh?”

“Yes. I paid it through my job as an online community manager for the guy in Nakano’s website, the one who sells rare DVDs.”

Akaashi was waffling again: he was either nervous, or embarrassed, or both.

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Akaashi said, his hand on his bedroom’s doorknob. “I’ve been told that communication and management were my strong suits. I intend to develop these skills in the future.”

He turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The inside of the room revealed itself to be another world.

It wasn’t Akaashi’s room, first because it was cleaner than usual, and second because it contained some additional objects Bokuto was certain he’d never seen before, like plaster dwarves disguised as Santa Claus, fake snow decorating the windows, a ton of lit Christmas lights as though the entirety of Ginza was shoved into a small enclosed space, and an entire army of handcrafted paper angels that looked vaguely threatening. At the foot of Akaashi’s bed was an inflatable mattress and various bottles of massage oil, and on top of the bed were quite a number of sex toys, whose neon colors came off as grey under the blinking electric lights.

“Like I said, we have the evening to ourselves,” Akaashi said casually, as though recreating a love hotel room inside his own bedroom wasn’t the most absurd and romantic gesture he’d ever done.

Bokuto was going to start to cry.

“Is it… to your liking?”

No. He wasn’t going to suffer a second more of this uncertainty in Akaashi’s voice, he wasn’t going to wear down the trust placed in him in the slightest: he was going to praise his boyfriend to the moon and back as he deserved, and he was going to make him understand how much he surprised him, how he went above and beyond any of his expectations, how much he loved him.

“It’s magnificent, amazing. It’s like a dream. Akaashi, how can you make everything so perfect all the time?”

“Now you’re overdoing it.”

Despite the lights, Bokuto could see his cheeks had taken a duskier tinge.

“Since we couldn’t do it last time at the hotel”, Akaashi said, looking everywhere except at Bokuto, “I thought, if the mood struck us, we could enjoy this night together as well.”

“And so… the mood now is…?” Bokuto held out his hand to caress his cheek.

Akaashi’s eyes, when he finally raised them on him, were clear and earnest.

“I want you, Bokuto-san.”

“Because of the keychains?” Bokuto smiled.

“Yes,” Akaashi replied without ambiguity. “It’s like… We are… We are a real… We are a real couple.”

Bokuto took it as an invitation to kiss him square on the mouth: he really was too adorable.

From kisses to caresses, Bokuto ended up with his hands full of Akaashi’s round and firm butt. When they pushed their pelvis together and ground against each other, he could feel his dick straining against his through their clothes.

Out of a sudden inspiration, he lifted him up, locking his arms around his thighs, all the while kissing him. Nothing better than a little show of his strength to sharpen his boyfriend’s lust some more; he knew him well in that regard, at least. His little trick was short-lived, but he’d anticipated it: they fell together backwards on the bed, making the sex toys bounce around them on the mattress. Akaashi snorted a laugh.

“What do you want first?” Bokuto asked against his mouth.

“We could… we… we could have a little fun,” he stammered, distracted by Bokuto who was nibbling at his neck in search of his erogenous zones. “The… the mattress…”

Akaashi got out of his clothes as fast as he could, all the while maintaining Bokuto’s mouth at a safe distance from his naked skin, then crawled to the end of the bed to fall on the inflatable mattress. He chose a bottle of scented oil at random and slathered himself up with it, from his torso to his hard dick. His skin started to scintillate, illuminated by the electric lights. Akaashi’s beauty, that had always seemed otherworldly, had never been more unreal than in this instant. Bokuto forgot how to breathe.

“Come, Bokuto-san, I want to feel you on top of me.”

Bokuto hastily shed his clothes, with far less efficiency and economy of gestures than Akaashi, leaving a sock on one of his feet, and joined him on the inflatable mattress.

At the first slippery slide of skin against his, Bokuto let out a small cry. The sensation was new, irresistible: two bodies covered in oil slipping with next to no obstacles against each other, quickly, as though moved by magnetic attraction, with their cocks rubbing and the fluids coming from them mixing with the oil, augmenting the speed of friction.

Akaashi’s senses, just like Bokuto’s, had to be on fire, if his sighs and whimpers were to be believed. But just as the sensation started amplifying and mounting up to something, and heat started accumulating in Bokuto’s loins, Akaashi pushed him away firmly, until he found himself kneeling on the floor. Bokuto was afraid for a moment that Akaashi had changed his mind, but he simply turned his back on him and went down on all fours on the mattress. With one hand, he spread out his buttcheeks, so Bokuto could see his hole quiver, dark pink and as glistening as the rest of him.

“Fuck me,” Akaashi panted.

No need to tell him twice: he nearly pounced him.

Key word being “nearly”: he did pounce, but then he slipped, and fell.

He’d knelt too fast on the smooth, oil-covered surface of the mattress behind Akaashi, lost his balance, and, as he tried to recover, fell backwards and hit his head against the bedframe. Hard.

“Bokuto-san!” He heard Akaashi call over the loud noise of his beating heart, which resonated up to his painful skull.

In the blink of an eye Akaashi stood above him, framing his face with his hands, holding his lower eyelids down with his thumbs.

“Bokuto-san, look at me, answer me. Look at my index finger, try to follow it. Tell me your name, today’s date, and where you are.”

“It’s okay, Akaashi, no need to panic. It’s not like I can hurt anything in there, my head’s empty anyway.”

He hadn’t followed Akaashi’s index finger with his eyes, but it had to count for something that he could actually feel the tangible weight of Akaashi’s disapproving stare on him.

“My name is Bokuto Koutarou,” he sighed. “Today’s the 24th of December and I should have been inside you right now if I hadn’t behaved like a complete imbecile.”

“Good,” was all that came out of Akaashi’s mouth before he guided Bokuto’s erection inside him and took it all the way as he sat on it.

Complete shock had stolen Bokuto’s breath and he had trouble getting it back.

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi said as he kissed and cuddled him while he was suffocating with surprise. “But if you didn’t have a concussion, we just had to get on with it, I couldn’t wait anymore, I needed you inside me…”

His urgent and desperate pelvic thrusts weren’t contradicting him. Bokuto’s hard cock slipped in and out of him a little too easily for Akaashi not to have prepared in advance. So, for Christmas, Akaashi had been fingering himself thinking about Bokuto coming over, in the middle of his room covered in the most ridiculous decorations supposed to remind them of a love hotel…

Best. Christmas. Ever, Bokuto thought to himself as he controlled Akaashi’s hips with one hand, and took Akaashi’s fingers with the other to bring them to his mouth.

He kissed the tip of each, then sucked two of them in.

Akaashi let out a moan, ground down with renewed energy and tried to introduce two more fingers inside, that Bokuto’s huge mouth accommodated without a hitch. He rolled them on his tongue, sucking, nibbling from time to time, while he slowed down his thrusts inside Akaashi in favour of a penetration more precise, so he could replicate over and over the movements that made Akaashi cry out.

He changed rhythm when he felt Akaashi on the brink of orgasm, when his moans turned throaty. He maintained Akaashi’s ass against his pelvis and undulated his hips for a constant, deeper stimulation, while he only took Akaashi’s index finger in his mouth and sucked it all the way inside.

Akaashi’s insides clamped down on his dick, his whole body arched, he came. His semen covered Bokuto’s torso up to his clavicles, missing his chin by an inch. Bokuto took Akaashi’s cock in hand as it went through the last spams of its climax and jerked it off to the last drop, to oversensitivity, pushing Akaashi to writhe on Bokuto’s cock, still hard and deep inside him.

He let his head drop against Akaashi’s chest, trying to control his erratic breathing. He didn’t want to come right now. But Akaashi did not agree with that.

“Mmm, come inside me, please,” he pleaded with feverish kisses. “Bokuto-san, please, I want to feel you climax inside me, so your come would dribble down my thighs when you pull out, I want to keep the sensation of your cock filling my ass until morning…”

Bokuto held on, answering kiss for kiss without saying anything, until Akaashi went for the coup de grâce:

“Koutarou? Please?”

He was only human after all. He lifted Akaashi up and threw him on the bed above them, arranged him back on all fours and sheathed himself inside. This time, sensing it was what Akaashi wanted, he was selfish. He only thought about his pleasure, going at his preferred pace, fast and punishing.

“Yes, Bokuto-san, use me,” Akaashi whimpered, half incoherent under the assault. “That’s what I’m here for, I want you, I’m yours, I only want you, please do whatever you want with me…”

“Say my name, Akaashi,” Bokuto said in a dark voice he didn’t know he possessed.

Akaashi kept silent. Bokuto stopped moving altogether.

“No, please, don’t stop,” Akaashi begged. “Fuck me, come inside me…”

“Keiji, say my name.”

He hesitated for a second before he gave in. And when Akaashi surrendered, he didn’t do it by halves.

“Yes, Koutarou. Koutarou, Kou, come, fuck me, please, Kou, do whatever you like…”

Bokuto picked up the pace right at the speed where he’d left it, without going through a build-up again; he’d reached his limits. He could feel Akaashi took no other pleasure in it than being used as a hole for him to fuck, as though he’d surrendered his body entirely to him, and it drove Bokuto wild.

“Yes, yes,” Akaashi cried out as Bokuto took him like a horny dog, draping his sweaty, overheated body over Akaashi’s own, covering him completely.

He climaxed on the brink of passing out from physical exertion. He was out of breath, but he gathered the last of his strength to keep himself from slipping out of Akaashi, holding on to his ass with unyielding fingers to make sure he spilled everything inside like Akaashi wanted.

His dick wetly popped out on its own after a while, with semen gushing out of Akaashi’s gaping hole. Bokuto couldn’t help but play with it, stuff his fingers inside to make more come out, fascinated by the sheer quantity of his load.

“Disgusting, Akaashi,” he said with a tone that meant the opposite.

Akaashi’s answer was a whine, and Bokuto saw his dick give a little twitch. He spotted a vibrator that was still lying around on the bed, made Akaashi lie down on his back and pushed it in his messy hole as far as it would go. Then he turned it on, ignoring Akaashi’s half-hearted protests about it being too much, and set to fellating him. After having both come, there was no sense of urgency anymore, so he took his time, leisurely tasting him, the musky, acidic tang that the massage oil couldn’t quite hide.

Aside from his fingers running in Bokuto’s scalp, Akaashi barely moved at all, his muscles turned to water, relaxed: in all evidence he was just as spent. When he came again, his body lifted only halfway up, then heavily dropped down on the mattress. A mere few drops of come were collected by Bokuto’s extended tongue, and even then, only because Bokuto had had to force them out, pressing and caressing Akaashi’s shaft and balls in his loving hands.

Bokuto swallowed, then murmured:

“Merry Christmas.”

Akaashi muttered something.

“What…?” Bokuto said.

“I said: god you’re so corny,” Akaashi whispered, making huge efforts to move his stiff lips and tongue.

“ _You’re_ corny,” Bokuto retorted as he collapsed beside him.

 

Later, way later, at the early hours of the morning, once they’d drifted back to consciousness, they took a bath together in the family’s ofuro after rinsing the dried come off in the shower.

They took their sweet time in it, reheating twice in a row the water turned lukewarm, until their fingers pruned beyond recognition. Bokuto dropped little kisses on Akaashi’s, feeling their wrinkles with his lips. He thought about Akaashi growing old.

“Hey, Akaashi. Let’s live together.”

Akaashi paused for a second, then seemed to take it in stride.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We could be like this all the time. Sleep together, bathe together, fuck whenever we wanted and as roughly as we wanted…”

“Mmm. I suppose we could.”

Bokuto jumped, making the water splash around them.

“Do you really mean that?!”

“After I graduate,” Akaashi said sternly, as though setting limits to an overexcited child.

“Yes, yes of course,” Bokuto said, appropriately subdued.

Akaashi took Bokuto’s wrinkled hand in his, turned it over then laced their dripping fingers together.

“I intend on making lots of money. In fact I’ve already started. I want to spoil you, Bokuto-san, so you can live your life as you want and you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto gasped, “you want to be my sugar daddy!”

“Yes,” Akaashi said serenely, waving their locked hands around.

“I still want to play volleyball though, is that okay?”

Akaashi turned around and kissed the tip of his nose.

“More than okay. Like I said, you can do whatever you want to do.”

“Maybe I can become a professional volleyball player. Maybe I’ll earn more money than you do and then I’ll be your sugar daddy and spoil you!”

“Oh, I see. Then we definitely have to aim for the hugest, most beautiful house.”

“Does it have to be a house?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, I’m just considering my options. Describe it to me.”

“Or we can have an apartment right in the city center. A penthouse, with a view over Tokyo, and you could fuck me against our immense bay window. It doesn’t matter. I don’t know what our future home will look like. We don’t even have the keys to it yet. Only one thing is for certain.”

“…What is that?”

Akaashi spun around to face Bokuto as graciously as he could, careful not to entangle their long limbs in an inextricable knot. Bath water sloshed around them and the tub overflowed. Akaashi didn’t seem to care.

He crossed his legs around Bokuto’s waist, trapping him between his thighs, and brought their foreheads together as he leaned forward.

All Bokuto could see was Akaashi’s eyes, twinkling with joy in extreme close-up.

“We already have the keychains.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, sorry if I made mistakes I still have no beta.


End file.
